At that moment the cutter arrived from the ship, and Tom was placed in it, and conveyed on board. Captain Woodward hastened to the gangway, and himself received the suffering sailor, who was in a very precarious state; and as it was considered desirable to keep him quiet, he was placed in the acting boatswain's cabin, and immediately taken charge of by the kind doctor. When the latter had attended to Clare, he went aft to the captain's cabin, and reported the coxswain to be suffering from great prostration, resulting from excitement and sudden immersion in the water, adding, "it may be weeks before he is fit to go to duty again." The next morning Thompson went on board and saw his friend, who looked as if he would not be long with them; but in a few days a marked improvement took place, and Clare was able to get up. When Tom was well enough to walk up to the quarter-deck, Captain Woodward mustered his crew, and publicly thanked him for his gallant conduct. "I have written to the admiral, and given him a full account of your noble deed, and I hope in a few days to tell you what he thinks of your bravery." Upon hearing these kind words Tom shuddered. He knew that he deserved them, but the assembly of men reminded him so strongly of the occasion upon which he was flogged, that instead of expressing satisfaction, he felt depressed; his only pleasure was in thinking how it would please his wife when she heard of it; and, to his great joy, shortly after the men were dismissed, a mail arrived from England bringing him several letters from her, one of which was, singularly enough, dated the 16th of August, and ended with the words, "We are all in good health, thank goodness," upon reading which Tom informed his friend that now he had such evidence he would not believe that she was dead, and from that day never spoke of the illusion to any one.